


Just Shut Your Mouth (And Do What You're Told)

by CosmicallyLyss



Category: ATEEZ (Band)
Genre: (it's a few drops of blood at most), (this happens one time), Alcohol, Arguing, Banter, Bickering, Bifurcated Tongue, Biting, Blood Kink, Choking, Dialogue Heavy, Dom/sub Undertones, Dominant Jung Wooyoung, Enthusiastic Consent, Explicit Consent, Face Slapping, Grinding, Hickeys, Kink Negotiation, Light Masochism, M/M, Mafia AU, Mafia Ateez, Mafia Boss Jung Wooyoung, Mafia Boss Song Mingi, Making Out, Marking, Mild Blood, Name-Calling, Pain Kink, Piercings, Power Dynamics, Power Play, Power Struggle, Safe Sane and Consensual, Scratching, Sexual Tension, Submissive Song Mingi, Unresolved Sexual Tension, non-sexual choking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-06
Updated: 2021-03-06
Packaged: 2021-03-19 09:47:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,792
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29872800
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CosmicallyLyss/pseuds/CosmicallyLyss
Summary: “Trying to exert power over me? In my domain?” Mingi, now provoked, stood up to face Wooyoung head-on. His movements caused Wooyoung to stand straight again, and Mingi quietly gloated at the observation that he was a few inches taller than the grey-haired man. “That’s not smart.”Wooyoung’s dark eyes narrowed as he scowled at Mingi. “I’m not here for idle conversation, Mireu, so tell me w-"“Hold on.” Mingi interrupted. “You were desperate to learn my real name only for you to not call me by it?”“What would you prefer I call you, huh? Dirty bastard?” Wooyoung was managing to keep his composure exceptionally well, which Mingi had to give him credit for, but the brunette could recognize the rage slowly building inside of Wooyoung, and he wanted to bring it out further.“Dirty bastard?” Mingi echoed. “You certainly know how to make a man blush, Wooyoung.”_______aka, the one where Wooyoung and Mingi are bosses of rival mafia branches, Mingi's got his hands on something Wooyoung wants, and Wooyoung is determined to get it back.
Relationships: Jung Wooyoung/Song Mingi
Comments: 10
Kudos: 28





	Just Shut Your Mouth (And Do What You're Told)

**Author's Note:**

> eeeeek okay so I'm actually in the midst of writing part 2 to Love Talk but i decided to randomly cobble this together based on an old Haikyuu work because I haven't written for WooGi before and that feels so very wrong... the title was taken from an English translation of The Leaders because jfc that song is hoe anthem of the century it goes so hard,,,,, anyway !!!! I'm a sucker for the mafia au so I thought I'd give a little gift to ATINY in the form of a (kinda hot & heavy) oneshot !! all warnings for this oneshot can be found in the tags, so please heed them, and of course...  
> happy reading !!!!!

“Sir?”

The man being addressed slowly raised his eyes up from the stacks of paper on his desk until he met the gaze of the woman before him. “What is it, Yeona?” The man’s voice was but a low murmur; his full lips barely opened to push the words out.

“Saja’s boss has arrived.” The woman, Kim Yeona, said plainly, her hands clasped in front of her, resting against her jade green pencil skirt. “Shall I send him in?”

“Hm…” The man at the desk pursed his lips in concentration. “One more body search. Be thorough. Check for poisons, for weapons. Even for recording devices. Anything that looks suspicious, seize it, and make it a fight if he wants it back.” As an afterthought, he added. “And send Yunho in with him when you’re done.”

“You got it, boss.” Yeona turned to leave. As she was exiting the door, she paused to look back at the man. “After the meeting, would you like to have dinner together?”

He raised an arched, slitted eyebrow as a devious smirk formed on his lips. “Oh, Yeona…” he began. “Do you not remember that our romance ended when we were in high school? What we have now is strictly a business relationship. It will  _ never _ be anything more.”

“Right…” Yeona said with a heavy sigh. “My apologies for being unprofessional.”

“Just complete what I ask of you and send the man in with Yunho.”

The man didn’t have to wait much longer; his underlings worked quickly and Saja’s boss would be arriving soon enough. There was just enough time for him to shove the papers into a desk drawer and sit back in his plush leather chair before the door swung open to reveal the two men that had been ordered into his large office. He acknowledged Yunho with a nod of his head, and watched as his tall bodyguard walked off to a corner of the room, stoic and silent. The other boss stepped closer and closer until he was right in front of his desk.  _ Ballsy… _ he thought. He continued to sit silently, not being bothered to make the first move.

“Mireu.” Saja’s boss said. His voice wasn’t terribly deep, but carried an air of power with it.

“Jung.” The sitting man responded, his eyes half shut with boredom.

“You know my name.” Wooyoung observed, his cat-like eyes glinting in the dim light of the office. “Wouldn’t we be on even playing ground if I knew yours?”

“Maybe… But where’s the fun in that, Youngie-ah?” A low snicker started to bubble deep within the man’s chest as Wooyoung scowled. Wooyoung was remaining quiet, so the man decided to use this opportunity to give him a pronounced once-over. He’d never seen Wooyoung up close before the present moment. His hair, thick and dyed a dark grey, was parted on the side so that his bangs fell to either side of his face. They weren’t long enough to cover either of his narrow eyes, and instead framed his angular face gently. He wore three main pieces that the man observing him cared to pay attention to - leather pants, a leather top unbuttoned down to his sternum, and studded leather suspenders. His frame was accented with fingerless leather gloves and an abundance of necklaces. The ensemble fit him well, accentuating his lean build and broad shoulders without making him appear stocky. The desk blocked any view of Wooyoung’s shoes, but that wasn’t of prime importance. Yes… Jung Wooyoung, the man in charge of leading the Saja family. He was outgoing, he was flashy - he was irritating. He tensed up when he noticed the eyes traveling down his body, but nobody in the room made any mention of it.

“I didn’t come here for fun, Mireu.” Wooyoung muttered, glowering.

The man’s lips stretched into a twisted smile, and his sharp canines became visible as they started to press against his lower lip. “Song Mingi.” He stated. “Though I’m surprised your family wasn’t able to find that information out, considering how skilled you are in the intelligence department. That’s led by…Choi San, if I remember correctly?”

Wooyoung didn’t let Mingi have the luxury of an answer, and instead gave him the same treatment - a scan of his body starting from head to toe. Mingi wasn’t at all intimidated by the looks, instead he welcomed them. He was confident in his appearance, even going as far as to use it to convince the bosses of other families to do his bidding. His hair, dark brown in color with highlights that appeared green when the light hit them right, was kept shaved at the sides and longer at the top, was styled, slicked back over his forehead with only a select few strands falling forward onto his face. Through his bottom lip were two piercings, silver rings on either side, resembling a snake’s fangs. His long-sleeved mesh turtleneck was black as night and accented with two thick, blood red stripes that crossed over his torso; a coral snake, maybe. The shirt was mostly covered by a leather jacket that hung to just below his waist. He wore just one necklace, a long silver chain with a pendant that hung down to right above his belt. Mingi could practically feel Wooyoung’s eyes trace the individual lines of a tattoo across the right side of his body that was half visible through his shirt. The shirt was tucked into his tight black dress pants cinched at his slender waist by a studded belt. On his feet were ankle high black combat boots. “Like what you see, Youngie-ah?” After asking the teasing question, Mingi mischievously stuck his tongue out, and was pleased with Wooyoung’s startled response when he realized Mingi’s tongue was bifurcated. Wooyoung had the wilder personality, but Mingi took the top prize for wild appearance.

“Quit it with the nicknames.” Wooyoung was getting irritated, and leaned a little bit over the desk, towering over the still-sitting Mingi.

“Trying to exert power over me? In  _ my _ domain?” Mingi, now provoked, stood up to face Wooyoung head-on. His movements caused Wooyoung to stand straight again, and Mingi quietly gloated at the observation that he was a few inches taller than the grey-haired man. “That’s not smart.”

Wooyoung’s dark eyes narrowed as he scowled at Mingi. “I’m not here for idle conversation, Mireu, so tell me w-”

“Hold on.” Mingi interrupted. “You were desperate to learn my real name only for you to not call me by it?”

“What would you prefer I call you, huh? Dirty bastard?” Wooyoung was managing to keep his composure exceptionally well, which Mingi had to give him credit for, but the brunette could recognize the rage slowly building inside of Wooyoung, and he wanted to bring it out further.

“Dirty bastard?” Mingi echoed. “You certainly know how to make a man blush, Wooyoung.”

“Shut your vile mouth,” Wooyoung snapped. “You’ll call me Jung, I’ll call you Song, end of story.”

“How dominating…” Mingi grinned maliciously, forked tongue darting out of his mouth. “And Saja really allows a dictator like this to lead them?” Wooyoung was glaring daggers at him, and Mingi was sure if they were real, he’d be slumped over his desk, bleeding out from the multiple stab wounds. Good. His provocations were working.

“Listen here, Song, that’s crossing the damn line.” Wooyoung’s right hand was twitching at his side. Mingi felt a spike of nervousness course through his body, white-hot like a bolt of lightning. Was Wooyoung itching to get physical if he kept going? “I’ve been letting your bullshit slide this whole time, but I’m not letting you insult my leadership.” Wooyoung watched as Mingi’s jawline became more defined as he gritted his teeth.

“Sit down, Jung.” Mingi motioned to a chair similar to his own at Wooyoung’s side, and sat down himself once Wooyoung obliged to take a seat. “I’m admittedly surprised you wanted to come meet me. You know Imugi doesn’t do alliances, right?”

“I’m not here for a flimsy attempt at friendship.” Wooyoung’s voice had lost all emotion. “You know what you did.”

“Oh? Do I now?” Mingi’s tongue slipped out of his mouth to drag over his piercings. “I’m not so sure… You’ll have to refresh my memory.”

“The shipment of tetrodotoxin meant for Saja that your assholes stole.” Wooyoung’s fists were clenched at his sides.

“Fifty kilograms of tetrodotoxin, delivered at eight in the morning on September seventeenth on the border of Gyeonggi and Gangwon.” Mingi delivered the statement he’d memorized off the report given to him a few days ago.

“Delivered for  _ me _ on the seventeenth.” Wooyoung countered with a grimace.

“If you care about your lovely tetrodonic acid so much, care to explain why nobody had gone to pick it up for days? My men picked it up at two in the morning on the twentieth. And today…” Mingi glanced at the calendar on his desk. “...is the twenty-fourth. If your delivery was so important, why has it taken you a week to come pick it up - and not even directly from the source.”

“Saja has involvement with lots of things, Song. Sometimes we can’t spare even one person to pick up a delivery as soon as it's in place. We paid for what’s rightfully ours, and I won’t allow your slimy little snakes to steal from me.”

“Oh, Youngie-ah-”

“Jung.”

_ “Youngie-ah.” _ Yes… Mingi was having fun with this. “Wouldn’t it be smart to stop chasing what doesn’t belong to you anymore? It’s better for everyone if Imugi takes care of it. Poisons are our specialty, as you know, and we can handle them much better than you could ever  _ hope _ to even if we were all incapacitated.”

“Incapacitated? You wanna test that theory? I’ll gladly help you out.” Wooyoung hissed, his blood starting to run hot. Yunho gave Mingi a pointed look, silently asking him  _ Boss? Do you need me? _ Mingi beckoned Yunho closer with a single gloved finger until he was just a few feet away from the two men, and stopped him in his tracks when he held his hand up, palm facing outward. The hairs on the back of Wooyoung’s neck were starting to stand up, but he didn’t allow himself to visibly tense up.

“Besides…” Mingi broke the silence. “Who’s to say the toxin hasn’t been used already?”

“You little  _ bitch _ -” In an instant, Wooyoung was out of his chair and lunging for Mingi across the desk, but in an even quicker flash, Yunho had the grey-haired man restrained in a headlock. Mingi’s heart rate had quickened, but his outward expression hadn’t changed at all. Wooyoung’s face was flushed a dark red from both anger and embarrassment, and his eyes were wide in shock as a result of his own actions. Wooyoung, though wild, was not the type to lose his temper. Especially in one-on-one meetings. “I’m sorry.” Wooyoung had to choke down his frustrations at feeling the need to apologize, but the muscular man with an arm around his throat didn’t seem to be loosening his grip. “I was out of line.”

“Release him, Yunho.” Mingi ordered. Yunho instantly let go and Wooyoung sucked in a deep breath, smoothing out his shirt. “And bring us some wine,” He turned his attention to Wooyoung. “Do you prefer red or white?”

Wooyoung was taken aback from the sudden change in topic, but muttered out a huffy “Red.” He blinked a few times in quick succession and then opened his mouth once more. “Wait. I’m not going to trust a drink you give me. You said it yourself, it’s common knowledge that Imugi specializes in poison. And  _ you _ , Song, you know damn well you get called the Venom King.”

“You’re smart… But I admit the thought of poisoning you hadn’t crossed my mind. Saja’s involved with too many other families, and I’m not interested in getting into a gang war because I killed Saja’s head.” Mingi grimaced at the thought, completely unable to comprehend why Wooyoung wanted to get his family tangled in the ropes of five or more other families. “And, yes, I know about the nickname. Though I really do prefer Mireu…” His tongue darted out of his mouth yet again - the habit was truly serpentine - as he considered his options. “I could have Yunho bring in an unopened bottle?” Wooyoung’s face remained blank, wholly unimpressed.

“A new bottle from the place you get your own personal alcohol. And I’m coming with whoever’s getting it to watch them.” Wooyoung presented his counterargument.

“That’s fair. Yunho will take you.” He dismissed the both of them with a flick of his wrist and leaned back in his chair. A loud exhale left his lungs as his office door closed quietly. Mingi couldn’t tell if this meeting was going well or not… On a personal level, it was amazing. Wooyoung was powerful and handsome, and Mingi was excelling at pushing all his buttons. When Wooyoung first lunged towards him, Mingi had to admit he found it overwhelmingly attractive. He felt the tension in the room building, and could only hope Wooyoung felt the same. He’d felt an attraction to the man since first seeing him in action against the RBW family - Mingi had been traveling through the Jeollabuk province for a small vacation when he stumbled upon Saja invading the home turf of a group that went by ONEUS. Wooyoung had been captivating, and Mingi wanted to know more. He wanted to know if the feral glare Wooyoung unleashed on the ONEUS family would make him feel even more heated if it were directed at himself. It had gotten close a few times, but Mingi hadn’t felt equal, overly intense feelings of fear and attraction at the same time, so he wasn’t satisfied. Taking the tetrodotoxin hadn’t been a plan to lure Saja out; it’d go against Mingi’s preferred policy of staying away from conflict or allyship with other families. However, getting to finally meet Wooyoung after months of gathering intel on him and Saja wasn’t something Mingi frowned upon.

Just as he was starting to get impatient, the door opened, and Wooyoung walked inside followed by Yunho holding two glasses of red wine. “You can put those on my desk.” He told the bodyguard. “And then you’re free to leave.” Yunho looked at him quizzically when he placed the glasses on the wooden surface. “I think my dearest Youngie-ah has learned his lesson to not get too worked up. So you can go.”

“Sure, boss.” Yunho responded quietly, bowing his head to him and Wooyoung before taking his leave and closing the door behind him.

“I don’t know what the hell you’re trying to pull, Song, but it’s pissing me off regardless.” Wooyoung was glaring at him still.

“Hm…” That was the only response Mingi gave him. He picked up the glass closest to him and took a large swig of the drink. “Pinot Noir…” He noted. “Nice selection.”

“Are you even old enough to drink alcohol?” Wooyoung questioned, reaching for his own glass and sipping from it.

Mingi furrowed his brow, looking incredulously at Wooyoung. “How young do you think I am, the hell?” Mingi certainly knew he didn’t have a baby face or anything, and if either of the two men looked older than the other, that title would be given to Mingi… Right? And he was taller than the average height for men in South Korea. So was this looking young thing supposed to be Wooyoung’s way of provoking him? Or did he truly mean it, and now Mingi should have another insecurity to pile onto his ever-growing list?

“So you’re not eighteen?”

Mingi nearly choked on the sip of wine he was drinking. “Eighteen?! You think I’m a damn kid?!”

“Uh… You came into your leadership position less than a year ago, and you keep yourself hidden in the shadows.” Wooyoung explained. “You don't look too young, but for all that, I assumed you were quite the newbie to this stuff. So… You’re actually an adult?”

“I’m twenty-two!” Mingi said, exasperated. The frustration made Mingi down the rest of his wine in one go, and he huffed with his arms crossed over his chest.

“Oh.  _ Oh _ . Wait, hold on-” Wooyoung’s lips had parted, his mouth stuck open in shock. “You’re the same age as me?”

Mingi licked his dry lips before answering. “If you’re twenty-two as well, then yeah. That  _ is _ how age works, Youngie-ah.”

“I know how age works, and for the love of god, don’t call me that.” Wooyoung’s obsidian eyes had lost their sparkle. “How many times will I have to repeat myself?”

“‘Til I listen.” Mingi fixed Wooyoung with a smirk before opening a desk drawer to pull out some more alcohol - it was his favorite kind that he kept with him and only broke out for special occasions; lime flavored vodka.

“And when the hell will that be?” Wooyoung rolled his eyes in disgust as Mingi took a small sip straight from the bottle.

“Never.” Mingi’s shit-eating grin was accentuated by his piercings and canines so sharp they could -  _ should _ \- be considered fangs.

Wooyoung stared long and hard at Mingi as he took another drink of the vodka, watching the way his Adam's apple moved in his throat as he swallowed. “Give me some.” Wooyoung’s tone made his sentence come across as a command rather than a request, so Mingi just laughed and ignored him. “Song.” Ignored. “Mingi.” No response. “Mireu.” Ah. That caught Mingi’s attention. “Consider this the start of your payment back to Saja for stealing the toxin.” He stood up, trying to make his point more effective.

“Look at you making orders…” Mingi’s dark, onyx eyes were practically shimmering as he rose to his feet. “What makes you think I’ll listen?”

“Just start by letting me have some of the damn drink, Song.” Wooyoung’s eyes were darkening ominously; Mingi loved it.

“I like it when you call me Mireu. The name sounds good when you say it.” There Mingi went again, completely ignoring Wooyoung in favor of shifting the conversation.

“Damn it, Song, I’ll call you Mireu if you let me have the fucking drink. Why are you being so goddamn difficult?”

“And you’re sure you want it?” Mingi’s teasing was relentless. “Even when the bottle’s been in my… hm, what did you call it… my  _ vile _ mouth?”

“Screw you.” Wooyoung’s hand shot out across the desk and closed around the bottle’s neck. He wrenched it towards himself, breaking it out of Mingi’s grip, and took a large sip of it directly from the bottle. Mingi’s eyebrows raised at the display of strength. Wooyoung didn’t look exceptionally ripped, but there was power behind his grasp. “This is disgusting. Right up your alley.”

“Stealing from me…” Mingi murmured. “How disrespectful.”

“Sucks, doesn’t it?” Wooyoung put the bottle back down on the desk with a bit more force than necessary, the sound echoing in the office. “Imagine getting fifty kilos of poison stolen from you before you get the chance to even use  _ some _ of it.”

“You’re still mad about that, Youngie-ah?”

“Stop calling me that, Mingi.”

“Hey, what happened to calling me Mireu?”

“I lied.”

“Lying’s  _ my _ thing; now you’re stealing even more from me?”

“Stop playing games, Song. I’m here for business matters only.”

“Of course, Youngie-ah, why else would you be here?”

“I know what you’re trying to do.”

“Why would I want anything when you asked to arrange a meeting?”

“All this provocation? Getting under my skin? I can read you like a book, Song, and I’ve known you for maybe half an hour.”

“Oh, Youngie-ah, you truly underestimate my ability to conceal my true self.”

“Call me that again. One more time, I dare you.”

“You dare me? How hopelessly cliche…”

“Do you ever shut up?”

“Only with good reason.”

“Want me to give you one?”

“Still such a cliche.”

“I meant permanently shut you up, dumbass.”

“I see… Youngie-ah’s getting worked up again… Is he gonna try and hurt me this time, too?”

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you, you filthy snake.”

“Your words are as charming as ever.”

“You didn’t deny my accusation.”

“I’m not going to debase myself by entertaining your perverted thoughts.”

“You talk about not debasing yourself when you parade yourself around looking like you do? A see-through shirt and pants that leave less than nothing to the imagination?”

“You’ve really been checking me out this whole time, huh?”

“Don’t act like you don’t crave the attention.”

“‘You didn’t deny my accusation’... Youngie-ah.”

That was the breaking point. The use of Wooyoung’s own words against him was the catalyst for the shorter man’s composure to crumble. His fist, previously clenched at his side, was now closed around Mingi’s throat and squeezing tightly, leather rubbing harsh against the tender skin of his neck. Mingi’s blood was on fire. Something like this was what he wanted. Fear and arousal mixing together in his stomach and spreading throughout his veins. He swallowed down the saliva that had started to pool in his mouth with some difficulty, shivering at the resistance provided by Wooyoung’s hand around his neck. The difference between their breathing patterns was startling; Wooyoung was panting heavily, trying to catch his breath after their heated, fast-paced argument, and Mingi was struggling to get more than the occasional shallow breath through his airways.

“I was right.” Wooyoung was grinning evilly. “You do like it. You’re blushing like a schoolboy.”

“From… alcohol.” Mingi wheezed. “‘m tipsy.” On top of not being able to get many words out, Mingi’s voice was quiet and raspy. He could feel his pulse thundering away inside of his head, his lips felt all tingly, and the edges of his field of vision were slowly fading to black.

“But you didn’t stop me. Even now, you’re letting me do this.”

Mingi peered down at him through half-lidded eyes. “T-Touché.” Wooyoung huffed and squeezed tightly for just a moment more before releasing Mingi from his grip and letting the other boss catch his breath. “It took longer than expected for you to break.”

“So you really did want that to happen…” Wooyoung sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “You’re messed up, huh?”

“Not exactly, though.” Mingi dissented. “I wasn’t expecting you to choke me halfway to blacking out. Though I can’t say I was entirely averse to it once it did happen.”

“Filthy…” Wooyoung grimaced. After shaking his head slowly, he looked back over at Mingi. “Then what were you expecting, hm?”

Mingi’s grin turned from devious to devilish. “Come here. I don’t want my desk in the way.” Wooyoung seemed to hesitate for a moment before walking around the side of Mingi’s desk and positioning himself in front of the other boss. “You seem unsure. I’m not doing anything unless I’ve got full and enthusiastic consent.” Was Mingi a crime lord? Yes. Was he an assailant? No.

“It’s you I’m concerned about, Song.” Wooyoung admitted. “I’m a heavyweight, so I’m fine, but you said you were already tispy. I don’t want alcohol clouding your judgement.”

Mingi grabbed Wooyoung by his suspenders and yanked the man closer until their faces were inches apart. “Jung Wooyoung. I have wanted your tongue down my throat since I first laid eyes on you.” Mingi said monotonously, looking down at Wooyoung through his eyelashes.

“You really have no filter, Song.” Wooyoung muttered through breathy laughter.

“Hm…” Mingi played with where Wooyoung’s suspenders were fastened to his belt. “How are we doing this? I’m not gonna hurt my neck just to kiss you, you’re just a bit too short.” Wooyoung peered over Mingi’s shoulder to point at the big leather chair. Mingi seemed to approve of the idea, and went to sit back down, but he was stopped by Wooyoung’s hand twisting in the front of his shirt and pulling him back up. “What?”

“There’s no way I’m gonna sit myself on top of you. You’re tall and all, but I can see what you look like under that shirt. You look like you’d crumble under the force of a paperweight,” Wooyoung reasoned, letting go of Mingi’s shirt. “I’d snap your fragile bones in half.”

“First you think I’m a kid, then you think I’m fragile…” Mingi’s tongue slipped out of his mouth again, and he let it stay out for just a bit longer than normal, watching Wooyoung’s eyes drop down to follow its movements. “It takes much more than you think to break me.”

“Shameless little snake…” Wooyoung hissed out, finishing the job of shoving his suspenders down his shoulders so they hung against his legs, then unfastening another button of his top to expose more of his golden skin.

“If that’s me, aren’t you just a feral little kitten?” Again, Mingi was back with the smirking. “I mean, you did attack me unprovoked…” Wooyoung’s feline eyes narrowed at Mingi’s words, a snarl escaping from back in his throat. He bent forward, wrapping his hands around the back of Mingi’s thighs, pulling upward and forward until Mingi got the message and hopped off the ground. Their bodies worked in perfect sync, Mingi’s long legs wrapping around Wooyoung’s waist and arms over his shoulders as the grey-haired man surged forward to slam Mingi’s back against the uneven stone wall. He made a small noise of pain, wincing and squeezing his eyes shut.

“Unprovoked?” Wooyoung whispered harshly into Mingi’s ear, his teeth wrapping around the metal charm of his dangling earring and lightly pulling it down. “You said you were a liar, apparently you meant you’re a shitty one.”

“You’re stronger than I expected-” Mingi admitted, still trying to regain all the air in his lungs that had been knocked out from them when Wooyoung slammed him into the wall. If he didn’t have his jacket to protect him, he’d be left with bruises, scratches, something.

“You’re lighter than I expected.” Wooyoung responded with a teasing remark, pulling back to look at Mingi head-on so he could throw a smirk in the taller man’s face.

“How the hell’d you even get to be like this?” Mingi questioned. Wooyoung looked as if he hadn’t broken a sweat, and even if Mingi’s weight wasn’t unbearable to support, he was still a tall individual. “Where are you storing all the muscle?”

“I didn’t claw my way to the top by being weak.” Wooyoung seemed proud of himself from the way his chin inclined arrogantly. “And I don’t think it matters where it’s stored, you’re into it regardless. What? You like being off the ground?”

Mingi wasn’t subscribing to the fate of being taunted by Wooyoung any longer. “Didn’t you wanna go on the chair?” Mingi’s breathing became heavier as Wooyoung scowled and learned forward so his teeth could scrape lightly along his jawline. “This doesn’t exactly look like my chair, Youngi-”

“Do you  _ ever _ shut the fuck up, holy shit-” Wooyoung made a point of pressing his body harder against Mingi’s, pushing him against the wall with more force.

“You like hearing me t-” Mingi cut himself off with a mix of a surprised gasp and a choked off wheeze when Wooyoung moved his mouth down to his neck, nipping at the skin of his throat. “You like hearing me talk.”

“What I’d like,” Wooyoung’s voice was a bit muffled as a result of his mouth being pressed against Mingi’s flushed skin. “Is for you to shut your debauched mouth.”

“Make me.” The challenge in Mingi’s tone was apparent.

“And you called  _ me _ a cliche… Idiot.” Wooyoung used a free hand to press at his temples. “Chair. Now.” He said it more as a direction for himself as opposed to an order to Mingi. With one last bite at the base of Mingi’s throat, Wooyoung backed away from the wall - Mingi’s long limbs still tangled around his body - and led the both of them towards the large leather chair. Wooyoung gently tapped Mingi’s waist twice, a silent message which the brown-haired man understood. He got back on his feet, staring expectantly at Wooyoung. Wooyoung appreciated how comfortable the piece of furniture was as he fell back in it, the leather soft against his back. “C’mere. Sit.” Wooyoung motioned to his lap.

“If I do, will you finally shut me up?” Mingi questioned with a hand against his hip. Wooyoung scowled at him, grabbing his arm and yanking him towards himself. It left Mingi falling forward, with no choice but to scramble around for balance until he found himself situated atop Wooyoung’s lap, sitting directly on top of his muscular thighs with his legs splayed out to the side. One quick look confirmed Mingi’s sneaking suspicion - his legs stuck out on either side of the chair, under the armrest and behind the piece of wood that connected the armrest to the seat of the chair. In other words, any movement of his would be limited at best and impossible at worse.

“Song.”

“Call me Mingi.”

“Fine,  _ Mingi, _ I suggest you stop talking back to me.”

“And if I d-” Mingi was left without the ability to finish his sentence; Wooyoung had finally -  _ finally _ \- covered his mouth with his own. Mingi parted his lips instantly, but instead of Wooyoung claiming the inside of his mouth, he just pulled away.

“Eager, are we?” Wooyoung asked with a teasing grin. Mingi didn’t give him the satisfaction of an answer. “Look at you, Mingi…” he continued. “Flushed and sweating, your neck already on its way to being marked up… What would your men and women think if they knew their boss was falling apart in the hands of another family’s head?”

“I’m nowhere close to falling apart. And you’ll never be the one to make it happen.” Mingi spat back. He finally found a good spot to keep his arms - crossed angrily over his chest, that is.

Wooyoung hummed his acknowledgement and started to run his hands over Mingi’s thighs. “How do you even manage to wear this? They’re just dress slacks, but they look like they’re stuck to your skin… Like I said, nothing left for the imagination. But you like that, don’t you?” Wooyoung’s hands were equal parts grace and strength. They traced delicate patterns over Mingi’s thick thighs, but squeezed them hard enough to leave bruises - Mingi would have to check that out later, once Wooyoung had left.

“Mm… Youngie-ah…” Mingi’s head had tipped back, his eyes almost fully closed. “Kiss me again.”

“Not yet.” Wooyoung stated. “Especially not if you keep calling me that.” Wooyoung’s hands left Mingi’s thighs to paw at his leather jacket, starting to push it off his shoulders. “May I?”

“Go ahead.” Mingi said with a nod, starting to pull his arms out from the sleeves to make things easier for Wooyoung. Saja’s boss had warm hands, and Mingi was sure to make mention of it as he pushed Mingi’s jacket off his shoulders and onto the floor, and dragged his fingertips across the mesh covering Mingi’s stomach. With Mingi’s heavy jacket off, Wooyoung could more easily admire the intricate tattoo that adorned his torso. The linework was immensely detailed, and most of it was a solid black, save for the rare occurrence of red and yellow. “Pretty, right?”

“It suits you.” Wooyoung answered. It wasn’t a direct response to the question Mingi had asked, and he phrased it that way on purpose.

“Mhm…  _ Now _ . Kiss me.” Mingi opened his mouth and stuck his forked tongue out with a wink. “Sharp teeth, split tongue, piercings… I’ve got a lot for you to work with.”

“When did you get this done?” Wooyoung asked as he brought two fingers up to Mingi’s mouth to poke and prod at his tongue, tracing along its slit.

“M’eighteenth birthday.” Mingi answered. His words were a bit slurred, seeing as he had to talk around the obstruction of Wooyoung’s leather-covered fingers in his mouth, but the other man was able to understand. “Fits m’whole vibe, hm?”

“If you’re trying to go for human-snake-hybrid-thing… Yeah, I think it fits.” Wooyoung’s eyes were glinting with playfulness. He took his fingers out of Mingi’s mouth and wiped them down on the man’s pants - to which he protested loudly. Wooyoung then placed his hands around Mingi’s narrow waist and squeezed gently. “You ready?”

“How many times do I need to say this?” Mingi huffed, draping his arms across Wooyoung’s shoulders and clasping his hands behind his neck. “I’ve been ready. For ages.” Wooyoung smiled up at him - the first time he’d smiled at Mingi without any anger or malice behind it, and leaned forward to close the gap between their bodies. Wooyoung was keeping the kiss slow and sweet, trying to take in every sensation that he could. Mingi’s two piercings were cold against his lips, but being caught in between two moving mouths was making the metal heat up to a less chilling temperature. Wooyoung took full advantage of the slow pace, using it to his benefit. The lackadaisical feeling he was getting from this allowed him to keep his cool as best he could, breathing deeply and concentrating on not letting his hormones overtake his body like a touch-starved teenager.

Wooyoung’s strength came mostly in his intuition and analysis capabilities. He could present a calm exterior - typically, though apparently not when Mingi provoked him enough - while reviewing everything he knew about their opponent, trying to predict their next move. It made him a trusted boss and a formidable rival. Mingi was similar in a few ways. He had the ability to scrutinize his competition and break them down by exploiting their weaknesses. His lack of desire to work with other families had allowed him to spend the time that would have been allocated for deals with allies elsewhere, usually working with his chemists to oversee their new ideas.

It became a battle of patience quite quickly, and Wooyoung was the undeniable victor. He was still enjoying the relaxed atmosphere when Mingi began to squirm around on his lap and pull away with an angry huff. “Cut the shit, Youngie-ah.” He demanded with a sneer.

“What was that?” Wooyoung asked, one of his dark eyebrows raised.

“Wooyoung.” Mingi spoked through gritted teeth. “Quit kissing me like you’re a goddamn thirteen year-old who’s never done this shit before.”

“Hm… I really don’t think I’ll be taking orders from you in this position.” Wooyoung’s voice was smooth like honey - it was pissing Mingi off.

“This position,” Mingi began, gesturing vaguely to the room as a whole. “Is you in  _ my _ domain with me on top of you. Plus I’ve got something you want. There’s only one person in a position to give orders, and that’s me.”

“Still think you’re so tough…” Wooyoung rolled his eyes.

“I wouldn’t be Imugi’s boss if I wasn’t.” Mingi countered. Wooypung didn’t talk back, and instead opted to drag his fingers from Mingi’s belt up to his collarbones, tracing over the tattoo through the mesh as he traversed atop cold flesh. Mingi had to purse his lips tightly together to keep from giggling; when Wooyoung gave him a puzzled look, Mingi spat out an irritated “Ticklish.”

Wooyoung let one of his hands slip farther up Mingi’s body, until his hand was tangled in the man’s perfectly styled brown hair. “Good to know.” He didn’t let Mingi get the chance to say anything else, Wooyoung just used the hand on his head to push Mingi towards him until there was no distance separating them. This time - much to Mingi’s liking - Wooyoung didn’t tease him with chaste kisses, and ran his tongue along Mingi’s bottom lip, pressing at the silver rings around them.

“Took you long enough.” Mingi grumbled before parting his lips and allowing Wooyoung’s tongue to slip inside his mouth. He let Wooyoung take the time to explore what he was getting himself into - Mingi hadn’t lied earlier, there was a lot going on in there - and sat still with his eyes closed, enjoying the feeling of the intrusion. Wooyoung was having a bit of a sensory overload, if he was being honest. Everything about Mingi had been cold, but his mouth was the complete opposite. Warm and wet, and much to Wooyoung’s chagrin, captivating. Wooyoung spent time running his tongue over the ridges on the roof of Mingi’s mouth, he learned to get used to the feeling of scraping his tongue across Mingi’s sharp canines. When Wooyoung finally took the initiative to go into the most uncharted territory he could think of, his eyes shot wide open. He had let his tongue find Mingi’s own, and he had pushed it against the split until he was able to slip it between the two sides of Mingi’s tongue. The feeling was something so new it was overwhelming, and Wooyoung had to pull away.

“Holy shit.” He breathed. “Holy  _ shit.” _

“Nobody ever tried doing that before…” Mingi mused, already trying to reminisce on the good feeling.

“Did you like it…?” Wooyoung asked tentatively.

“Heh…” Mingi brushed the hair that had fallen against his forehead out of his face. “Probably more than I should have.” For the first time, he was the one to initiate their connection, first biting at Wooyoung’s bottom lip to make him open his mouth in a gasp, and then slipping his tongue inside with no form of warning. They were moving in perfect sync, not too fast or too slow, and although there was no form of rhythm, neither man was complaining. Along with the lack of rhythm, there was a lack of class, a lack of tact, a lack of grace. It was heated and it was messy; both of their lips and chins were covered in spit. Wooyoung’s hand tightened in Mingi’s hair, pulling at the strands wrapped around his fingers, and making the taller man release a small, pleased noise. Wooyoung smirked into the kiss, considering the slip of that noise being the marker of a battle Mingi lost.

“So when am I coming to pick up the toxin?” Wooyoung asked, panting between breaths.

“Mm… Never.” Mingi answered instantly, punctuating his last word with a roll of his hips against Wooyoung’s.

“Bullshit.” Even at the beginning of a new phase of their consistent argument, Wooyoung didn’t stop his ministrations with Mingi. He used the hand on Mingi’s waist to push him down harder against his body, and both men let out a hiss at the newfound, unrelenting pressure. “You’re giving me what’s mine.”

“If it was yours, it’d be in your possession.” Mingi’s eyes fell shut, a result of his confidence.

“I have no problems hurting you.” Wooyoung was becoming breathless; the exertion of making out with Mingi while fighting with him at the same time was ample exercise. “Killing and maiming are two different things.”

“I see…” Mingi tried to shift his hips again, but the ironclad grip Wooyoung had on his waist rendered him immobile. His thighs, his neck, and now his waist. Mingi would be reminded of Wooyoung’s presence for the next few days by bruises in the shape of his fingerprints. “The kitten wants to prove he’s got claws?” The lilting tone provided a challenge, one that he was desperate for Wooyoung to answer to.

Wooyoung broke away from the kiss despite Mingi’s protests. “I need your full coherence for this. Where’s your stance on pain? Receiving it is all I need to know for right now.”

“Ah.” Mingi took a few seconds to regain breathing stability, his shoulders sagging as he let the tension in them fizzle out. “It’s good.”

“And your opinions on blood?”

“Don’t cut me up or anything. Aside from that I’m fine. If it’s other people’s, that also works.”

“Good to hear. Stop me if I do anything you don’t like.”

“You got it, Wooyoung.”

Wooyoung mumbled something under his breath as a response, but Mingi wasn’t able to hear it. Wooyoung tapped his lips, beckoning Mingi toward him silently. The boss of Imugi obliged, but he hadn’t realized exactly what he was in store for. Before Wooyoung claimed his mouth for his own personal use, he moved both his hands behind Mingi’s back with his fingertips pressing just below the waistband of his pants. “Move.” The word was spoken like a command, so Mingi didn’t budge. “Mingi. I’m not giving you what you want unless you listen.”

“Fuck you.” Mingi spat out the insult, oh so eloquently, but begrudgingly obliged, moving his hips and letting a choked off noise escape his lips when he felt Wooyoung match his movements from below him. “Why’re you so quiet, huh? ‘M I not good enough for you?” He leered at Wooyoung.

“The opposite, actually. The only time I talk a whole lot in situations like this when I’m not discussing consent and things like that is if I’m trying to compensate for something that’s lacking. You… You’re good.” Mingi grinned at the praise, tongue flashing out to swipe over his bottom lip. Wooyoung didn’t think he’d ever get over that sight. This time, when he kissed Mingi, it was the roughest one yet. Wooyoung didn’t let the man above him stop moving, even pushing him along with his hands whenever his pace slowed down too much. Inside Mingi’s mouth, Wooyoung found himself searching for one of the man’s sharp teeth. When he located it, he harshly dragged his tongue across it until a warm and metallic taste flooded his senses. Mingi’s eyes shot open wide, surprised but not upset. He closed them after the initial shock faded, and circled his forked tongue around Wooyoung’s lightly bleeding one, attempting to get a taste for himself.

“This is disgusting.” Mingi announced, trying to pull Wooyoung impossibly closer.

“Mhm.” Wooyoung agreed with a low rumble of laughter. “And you love it, same as me.”

Mingi let himself get completely lost in the overwhelming sensation, not even caring that minutes ago, Wooyoung’s small injury had stopped bleeding and the taste had completely disappeared. With the coppery, iron-like taste gone, Mingi could really focus on what  _ Wooyoung _ tasted like. Wooyoung without the addition of anything else. Mingi registered cinnamon above anything else, maybe a little apple, too, and the faintest traces of the wine and vodka. It was warm. Too warm. Hot. Even just  _ hot _ wasn’t a good word to describe it. It was blazing, it was fiery, it was-

“Give me the poison.” Of course, Wooyoung just had to interrupt, yet again.

“No.” Mingi’s immediate answer was almost incomprehensible; his tongue was halfway in Wooyoung’s mouth. Before Mingi could register and understand what was going on, he felt himself being maneuvered around until his legs weren’t trapped anymore, then lifted off the chair and slammed against his desk, his back on the hardwood surface, staring up at the ceiling. “Wait, wh-” The movement had happened so quickly, and Mingi was still shaken up from it. He glared at Wooyoung once he came into Mingi’s field of vision, for the first time towering over him. “Where the hell are your manners, why can’t you be a damn gentleman, what the hell?”

“I didn’t think that would have worked.” Wooyoung really did have a habit of not answering Mingi’s questions. “Seriously, how are you this flexible?” Oh. Mingi supposed that was a good question. His desk had been built so that it was as high as his waist when he was standing up, and with the way Wooyoung had manhandled him so roughly - which Mingi didn’t exactly  _ hate _ \- his back was completely flat against the desk while his legs were still straight, feet planted firmly on the ground. A perfect ninety degree angle, really.

“I did dance and gymnastics from elementary school through high school.” Mingi answered. “Now, care to tell me what the hell you’re doing?”

“I remember you saying something like, oh, what was it… ‘the kitten wants to prove he’s got claws?’, right?” Wooyoung’s tone was overly condescending.

Mingi would have vehemently denied how red his face got when Wooyoung spoke, even if internally, he knew that his cheeks were on fire. “Is this supposed to be some kind of torture porn thing?”

“Oh, shut  _ up _ , dumbass.” Wooyoung rolled his eyes. “Also, you didn’t even use that phrase right, what it actually means is-”

“Wooyoung.” Mingi cut him off. “Don’t lecture me about the nuances of torture porn and do whatever the hell is it you’re planning on doing. I already told you I’d stop you if I’m not into it.”

“In that case…” Wooyoung situated himself between Mingi’s legs, staring coolly down at him. “I hope you don’t care too much about this.” Mesh wasn’t a strong material in the first place, so there was no way it could have resisted the force of Wooyoung tearing at it. In a jagged line down from the neckline to the hem - the force of the tug had untucked the shirt from Mingi’s pants - Wooyoung had ripped the shirt in half. He tugged on the black and red fabric in his hand until Mingi got the message and lifted his back off the desk so Wooyoung could slip the shreds off of him. “You look good from this angle.”

“I look good from any angle.” Mingi countered, his silver piercings shining even brighter in the new angle of lighting.

Wooyoung sighed and smoothed his hands down the planes of Mingi’s chest and stomach, carefully watching the way his abdominal muscles twitched when his fingers dragged over them. “This is why trying to be nice to you is pointless.” He moved one hand to collect both of Mingi’s thin wrists in his strong grip, and pinned them both against the desk, over his head. “I give you a compliment, and you act like a  _ bitch _ .” On the last word, Wooyoung dragged his hand that was resting on Mingi’s stomach up to the base of his neck, digging his nails into his skin and leaving angry red lines in his wake.

“What the  _ fuck _ was that, Wooyoung-” Mingi’s breathing had gotten labored quickly, his arms aching to break out of Wooyoung’s grip.

“My claws.” Wooyoung’s smirk was obnoxious, and Mingi wanted to punch it off his face.

“Why’d you just do it once?” Alright, Mingi could return a smirk that was equally as obnoxious.

“Mingi…” Wooyoung growled, scratching the man below him again, this time directly over his serpent tattoo. “Oh, Mingi, you’re not supposed to be enjoying this. Then again, I should have expected a filthy, slimy snake like you would get off on this.”

“Why do you sound like you’re complaining?” Mingi asked, pouting to fake innocence. “You should be happy that we both like it, Youngie-ah.” Mingi gasped involuntarily as he felt Wooyoung’s nails scratch across his throat.

“I told you to stop calling me that. And you were doing well for a while there.” Wooyoung feigned disappointment in his inflection.

“Mm… Youngie-ah…” And there it was, another scrape of Wooyoung’s nails, this time across Mingi’s collarbones.

“You’re just a glutton for punishment, aren’t you?” Wooyoung asked through a clenched jaw. Mingi tried to yank his wrists out of Wooyoung’s grip, but his movements just caused the grey-haired man to squeeze them tighter. “Give. Me. The. Tetrodotoxin.”

“No, Youngie-ah.” Mingi’s lust-blown eyes darkened. For Wooyoung, it was the final straw. He switched the hands he was pinning Mingi’s wrists with, leaving his right one now free to move around. He placed it gently on Mingi’s left cheek, caressing his cheekbone with his thumb. Mingi was surprised by how gentle the action was, and was left stunned, not knowing how to react. When Wooyoung pulled his hand back just a bit, Mingi was about to question him, but he wasn’t given the chance. Wooyoung smacked him hard across the face, Mingi’s head whipping to the side. Wooyoung instantly started to search Mingi’s body language for any show of discomfort, but when he met Mingi’s gaze and saw fiery passion behind his ebony eyes, he licked his lips and placed his fingertips against the cheek he’d just hit. With more pressure than before, Wooyoung pressed his nails into Mingi’s skin and trailed them slowly down his body. He started right below his eye, and continued down over his face, down his neck, across his chest and over his stomach, stopping only when he was met with the barrier of Mingi’s tented pants. Admiring his handiwork, Wooyoung noted that little pinpricks of blood had popped up in certain areas on Mingi’s body. They were barely noticeable, though. “W-Wooyoung-” Mingi was shaking, and a sheen of sweat had started to envelop the exposed parts of his body.

“Are you alright, Mingi?” Wooyoung’s eyes widened ever so slightly with concern.

“My chemists have been working on chemically engineering the tetrodotoxin to increase its lethality per gram.” Mingi said, still shivering. “Come back here in one week and I’ll give you twenty-five kilograms of the stuff.”

After the deal proposal, Wooyoung let go of his wrists and Mingi winced as he began to roll them and stretch them out. “That’s acceptable. Now come sit up, you’re bleeding a little.” Wooyoung backed away from the desk, giving Mingi the space and time to pull himself up to a seated position. “Did I do too much? Go too far?”

“No, Wooyoung,” Mingi assured him. “We both know I’ve got an attitude and a big mouth; I would have told you to stop if it was necessary. Just…get me some cotton pads and rubbing alcohol. It’s the bottom right desk drawer.”

“Yeah, of course.” Wooyoung nodded. Mingi reached out for the materials he’d requested once Wooyoung had procured them, but Wooyoung held them out of Mingi’s long reach. “I caused these marks, I’ll be the one to take care of them. I strongly believe in taking responsibility for one’s actions.”

“You don’t have to do that…” Mingi muttered, rubbing the back of his neck somewhat awkwardly.

“I know. But I want to, and I will.” Wooyoung said. “Unless, of course, you stop me.” He added as an afterthought.

“I guess it’s fine…” Mingi looked over at Wooyoung and flashed him a small smile, one without any malicious or mischievous intent. There wasn’t any idle talk as Wooyoung cleaned the scratches he’d made on Mingi’s body - what could the bosses of two different families possibly make small talk about, especially when one was averse to interaction between families? Both men became accustomed to the comfortable silence, their breathing being the main source of noise in the room, replaced by the rustling of fabric when Wooyoung buttoned his top once more and Mingi slipped his jacket back on. Wooyoung made a teasing remark about how Mingi didn’t even have a shirt to cover with the jacket, but the taller man silenced him with a flippant middle finger. As Wooyoung pulled his suspenders back up, Mingi buttoned his jacket as much as he could, concealing a fair amount of the marks on his body. There were marks on his neck and face that hadn’t faded yet: light bruises on his neck and two scratch marks on his cheek. A bit embarrassing for Mingi, but there was nothing he could have done about it. “Come back here on the first of October. Eleven o’clock at night. I’ll deliver the twenty-five kilograms to you by hand. And then we’re done.”

“Done?” Wooyoung echoed. He cursed himself out inside his head for sounding a bit upset when he said the word.

“We’re done with business matters.” Mingi stood up, stoic and unmoving in front of Wooyoung. “Imugi doesn’t involve itself with other families if we can help it.”

“Business matters…” Wooyoung echoed yet again, a smirk slowly growing on his face. “And if I suggested seeing you again for personal matters?”

Mingi answered him non-verbally, first, with a chaste and soft kiss pressed against his lips. “I wouldn’t be opposed to it.” Mingi grinned at him, and Wooyoung caught a glimpse of that sinful - yes, Wooyoung thought it was sinful - tongue poke out between his teeth. Wooyoung nodded slowly.

“The first of October, huh… After I come to pick up what’s rightfully  _ mine _ , come home with me. Nothing business related, of course.” After Wooyoung propositioned Mingi, he started to walk away, crossing out from behind the desk and continuing his brisk pace until he reached the door.

“That works for me,” Mingi said once he saw Wooyoung’s hand touch the door handle. “Goodbye, Jung.”

Wooyoung opened the door and stepped into the hallway. “Next week will come by sooner than you think, Mireu.” The door closed behind him, and Mingi was left standing alone in his office. He slumped back against his chair with a sigh.

“I can’t wait, Youngie-ah…”

**Author's Note:**

> gaaaaahhhhhh strong wooyoung and delicate mingi is a dynamic that makes my brain short-circuit and just go awoooooga,, and i really hope you guys liked it, too !! also thank you yunho for making a tiny appearance; you were a great bodyguard. heheh,,, alrighty, chapter 2 of LT in the next few days !! but back to this oneshot, if you've got any feedback, i'd be honored to hear it! also.... is anyone.... maybe interested.... in a sequel fic..... in which their next meeting is written out........ because if so, please, let me know !!  
> stay hydrated and healthy, y'all!  
> xoxo, Ulysses <3


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